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“Oh please,” Willa says. “Don’t pretend you weren’t half in love with her, Audrey. Not with me. You can say whatever shit you want to the world, but not to me.”

I pick at my fruit as my heart clenches in my chest. “You’re right,” I say softly. “When I was saying those cruel things, watching Toni’s face collapse, the other side of my brain was screaming What the fuck are you doing, this is wrong, this woman is worth it.” I lift my eyes to meet Willa’s. “It was too much too soon. I wasn’t ready.”

Willa’s eyes narrow and her mouth goes tight. I’ve hit a nerve. I’m not sure what she’s going to say when she opens her mouth.

“And now? If you were to see Toni tomorrow, what would you do?”

My heart leaps at the thought of seeing Toni, looking into those blue eyes, seeing her sitting on the corner of someone’s desk, telling a story and laughing, looking at me like I’m her Christmas puppy. The way just being around her relaxes me and makes me happy.

“I have absolutely no clue.”

I’m running late, which I never do. But for some reason only God knows I decided to go to yoga this morning for the first time in months. My plan to get ready there was ruined when I opened my bag to shower and saw no makeup and no fresh bra. By the time I ran home to get ready, I had to fight traffic to get to the office and I make it to my desk at 08:55, a good hour later than normal. I texted Willa, so everyone knows I’m on my way. Being late is my biggest pet peeve and I’m almost running down the hall to make the Monday staff meeting, looking down at my phone to check the time, three minutes to go, and do not see the person coming out of the break room.

We collide at full force, knocking my phone across the hall, my bag off my shoulder, and spilling coffee all over the other person’s shirt.

“Shit,” we say at the same time, before everything freezes.

I know who I’m going to see before our eyes meet and, based on her expression, she did, too.

My entire body lights up with joy at the sight of her, those sparkling blue eyes, the flyaway hair that can never be tamed by her braid, the curve of her full bottom lip. And then she smiles at me, open and unreserved and full of happiness, like she used to every time she saw me, and I am bowled over with an absolute certainty.

I am in love with Toni Danzig.

The relief is so palpable I laugh and grin.

Toni mistakes it for something else and joins in. “Yeah, we gotta stop meeting like this.”

It’s then that I notice that it’s her shirt covered in coffee this time. “Oh my God I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s flannel. Practically indestructible.” She turns back into the break room to refill her cup.

I follow her, the fifteen people waiting in the conference room forgotten. “It’s good to see you,” I say. “I didn’t know you were going to be in the office.”

With a new cup, she turns. “I didn’t either until last night. Greta made a pretty convincing case, and it was time.” She looks me up and down, but there’s no heat, no wanting in her expression. It’s very different from her smile moments before. “How are you?”

“Besides running late, I’m good. Pretty good. Busy with work.”

“Yeah.”

We stand there, at a loss as to what to say next.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt.

“Really, it’s OK, Audrey.” Toni lifts her shirt and takes a sniff. “Though I don’t really want to smell like coffee all day.” She puts the cup down and, without unbuttoning the shirt, whips it off over her head. For a split second I think I’m going to see those wonderful abs again and, in a way, I do. Toni is wearing a form-fitting base layer in Fourteener blue that hugs every single one of her curves. It’s like the shirt was vacuum sealed onto her body and I feel so lightheaded I think I’m going to faint.

“Do you want some coffee? Or cider?” Toni offers.

Apparently she’s oblivious to the effect she’s having on me, but how the fuck is that possible? My mouth is gaping open. I know this because when I shut it my back teeth click together.

“Yes, coffee would be great.”

She drapes her soiled flannel across the back of a chair and returns to the coffee bar, her back to me, giving me a clear view of her ass in those confounded hiking pants. Before she reaches for the coffee, she pulls the long sleeves of her shirt halfway up her forearms.

Someone is playing very dirty.

“Here you go,” she says. She sets the cup down on the table. “See you in there.”

“Wait,” I say, touching her arm. Energy hums from her arm through my hand like a current. She stops and looks at me with her eyes, electric blue against the color of her shirt. She shifts her arm so that we aren’t touching, and my stomach falls. “I wasn’t apologizing for the shirt, though I am sorry for that.” OK, that’s a total lie because oh my God I will never regret Toni taking off that boxy flannel shirt. “I was apologizing for Christmas Eve.”